


the best thing that ever happened to me

by slnkingboat



Category: Rise (TV 2018)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, High School, I wrote this a while ago, M/M, This is just real cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 19:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14527110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slnkingboat/pseuds/slnkingboat
Summary: The first time Simon and Jeremy have to rehearse the WOYBR scene, kiss and all, doesn't go as Simon planned.





	the best thing that ever happened to me

**Author's Note:**

> I already posted this on Tumblr a couple weeks ago, but I didn't actually have an account on here until now. So enjoy!

This was the third time today he had caught my eye. The first time was when I had first walked into rehearsal. He was already on stage, going over dance moves. I slowly put my backpack down and watched as he spun around. When he came to face forward again, our eyes met. He smiled at me; I smiled back. Then I quickly looked away before someone else read too much into it.

The second time was when we were running lines. The whole cast was sitting on the stage, watching Robbie and Lilette really go at it. Sorry - watching a beautiful scene with Melchior and Wendla. I looked over to my right to see him watching me. When we made eye contact, he gestured towards the pair currently making out and rolled his eyes, smiling. I gave a quick, quiet laugh and returned to staring at the floor. There was a nervous feeling in my stomach as I hoped no one saw our brief exchange.

And now, the third time, we were standing up to do our scene. Everybody else cleared to the back of the stage and Maashous turned on the spotlight so that him and I could take our places. That was when we looked at each other again. Only this time, I wasn’t allowed to break eye contact. Now I had to pretend to be in love with him. “Ready?” I saw him mouth. I nodded.

Side note: what would it even feel like to be in love with a boy, anyways? Would it feel the same as being in love with a girl? I had never been in love with anyone; I wouldn’t know. But I had pretended to be in love with girls (mostly just Gwen) countless times for other shows. And I supposed Annabelle and I were dating now, so that had to count for something, right? Was this scene supposed to be the same? Or is it completely different between two boys?

I couldn’t help but wonder if he knew. Perhaps I should have asked him, but it was too uncomfortable. Besides, I didn't want him to think I was interested or anything. I was starting to have my suspicions after he invited me to “study” with him at eight on a Saturday night. The less I encouraged him, the better. The last thing I needed was my parents finding out that I had transferred back to Stanton only to be spending time with another boy. _Alone_.

The spotlight illuminated his blue eyes.  I felt like he was staring into my soul - why was his stare so intense?  I would do anything to look away, but we had a scene to do.

“Alright, both of you sit on the ground,” said Mr. Mazzu.

He took his position on his knees. I followed suit, sitting next to him. He smiled at me again, and I wanted to disappear. This had to be the most humiliating thing I had ever done. And in front of all of my theater friends, too! Sure, it wasn’t the first time we had ever rehearsed this scene, but it was the first time that we were doing the full thing, blocking and all.

“A little closer, Simon,” called Mr. Mazzuchelli. “You want to _be_ with him.”

I could hear a few snickers behind me and I felt my face going red. If we got any further outside of my comfort zone, we’d be driving right off of a cliff. But he just kept smiling at me, almost as if he was encouraging me. I moved closer to him. My heart was going a million miles a minute. Breathe, Simon, I told myself. Just pretend it’s Gwen. Or Lilette. It’s just another acting exercise.

I took a deep breath and began my monologue, not breaking eye contact with him the whole time. As I spoke, he just watched me, drawn into my every word. He really was a fantastic actor. If I concentrated hard enough, I could fool myself into thinking he was a girl. And from there, I just did what I would have done if I was doing this scene with Gwen. I found my confidence growing, and the more I spoke, the more everyone else in the room seemed to disappear.

“But I just skim off the cream,” I recited, leaning in towards him.

“Skim off the cream?” he asked.

“Right.”

The piano started playing the first few notes of The Word of Your Body, and I exhaled slightly. Singing. I could do this; I was good at singing.

“You’re laughing,” he recited. “Hanschen, what?”

That was my cue to start singing. This was the part of the scene that I had really rehearsed. I continued to pretend like I was singing to literally anyone else, and it was working pretty well for me. For the first few lines, I looked out into the audience and poured whatever talent I had into the words. Pretending was much easier when I didn’t have to look him straight in the eye.

“Great, Simon!” called out Mr. Mazzu.

“Oh, you’re gonna bruise, too,” I sang, turning back to him. He was still locked in on me. “Oh, you’re gonna be my bruise.”

Our faces were but an inch apart. I could hear him breathing. Was he as nervous as I was? It didn’t seem like it. It felt like he did this kind of thing all the time. In fact, he seemed _too_ comfortable. His character, Ernst, was supposed to be the nervous one in this scene, and yet there he was, exuding confidence.

He leaned even closer. I felt like my heart was about to leap right out of my chest. This was supposed to be the part where we kissed, but I felt too panicked to go through with it. When he went in to kiss me, I quickly backed away. He stumbled forward for a second and then caught himself.

The music continued to play in the background, and I quickly looked at the ground, unable to meet his eyes.

“What are you doing?” I heard Mr. Mazzuchelli say. I could tell he was frustrated.

“We don’t have to kiss yet, right?” I asked, still unable to look at the boy next to me. Instead I looked out into the audience to the spot where Mr. Mazzu’s voice was coming from (the light was too bright to actually be able to see anything).

“Robbie and Lilette did it,” murmured the voice of the boy to my right.

 _They’re dating_ , I thought to myself. Mr. Mazzu just replied, “The show is in two weeks. You should practice so it’s not awkward when you do it for real. Let’s take it from the first line of the song, okay?”

The band stopped playing and started again at the top. I took a deep breath and moved back into position. Again, I looked out into the audience as I sang. And then I turned back to him. This time, he actually looked nervous. What had changed? Was he afraid I didn’t want to kiss him? Because that was the truth. I really, really didn’t want to kiss him.

“Oh,” I sang, “you’re gonna be my bruise.”

He leaned in close again. I was close to hyperventilating.

“ _You_ have to kiss _him_ , Simon,” I heard Mr. Mazzou say. “Not the other way around.”

The stifled laughs coming from my friends in the back were what suddenly spurred me on. I could do this. I could do anything; I was the best actor Stanton High Drama had ever seen. Faster than the blink of an eye, I closed the gap between us and kissed him.

It happened too fast for me to understand what had really happened, because I pulled away again as quickly as I had leaned in. His breath caught quietly as his head briefly followed mine backwards before sitting up again.

“Oh, god,” he moaned. For a second I panicked, thinking that he truly meant that. Then I remembered it was in the script.

“I know,” I replied, making a quick recovery. I looked out into the audience as dramatically as possible. “When we look back 30 years from now, tonight will seem unbelievably beautiful.”

“And in the meantime?”

My confidence was slowly growing after I realized that the kiss wasn’t actually that bad. In fact, with my eyes closed, it was exactly the same as kissing Gwen on stage, like I did that one time in Once Upon A Mattress. “Why not?” I recited, turning back to face him. I was feeling brave and brought a hand to his cheek, pulling him in close.

Our eyes met, and then our lips met, and this time, I didn’t pull away. _Because it’s in the script_ , I reminded myself. _Hanschen and Ernst_ _kiss much more passionately the second time_. Our lips moved in synchrony, and I felt a surge go through me like an electric current. I kept my hand on his face in an urge to pull him closer. I felt his hands gently grab my waist and start to lean me backwards, and I leaned with him. I could barely feel my back touch the ground; everything was becoming fuzzy as my instincts took over. His body was on top of mine, he was kissing me like there was no tomorrow, and I was letting him because _God nothing had ever felt this good_.

And then, all too soon, he pulled away. I looked up at him, breathing hard. A million unanswered questions were swimming in his eyes.

He sat up and looked away. “On my way here this afternoon, I thought we’d only...talk,” he said, fumbling with his fingers in his lap.

I just sat there, dumbfounded. My mind was still numb with what had just happened. Any chance of remembering my lines had disappeared.

“Simon?” called Mr. Mazzu. “‘So are you sorry…?’”

“Right,” I muttered. I cleared my throat and looked away as well, saying, “So are you sorry we…”

“No!” he exclaimed, grabbing the side of my face and turning it so I was looking straight at him again. For a second, I forgot how to breathe. “I love you, Hanschen,” he said, “as I have never loved anyone.”

“And so you should,” I replied. I couldn’t help but smile. It was such a cocky, Hanschen-like thing to say.

He let go of my cheek and turned to face the audience as he began to sing. He really did have a fantastic singing voice. I watched him as he sang the next few lines of the song to the empty auditorium, his voice echoing off the walls.

And then he was facing me again, and we sang the next part together. “Oh, I’m gonna bruise you. Oh, you’re gonna be my bruise.” We split into harmony and finished out the rest of the song. His face was inches from mine once again as we finished, and every fiber in my being was telling me to lean forward ever so slightly and kiss him again.

Then suddenly the band hit the final note and the spotlight went out. It was dark, and in that split second of darkness, I felt his face move towards mine. His lips brushed my lips, but before we got any further, the house lights went up and I scrambled backwards, coming to my senses.

_What had I done?_

My castmates clapped politely, but I could hear their hushed conversation. No doubt they were eagerly gossiping about what had just happened. By this time tomorrow, the news was going to be all over the school. Simon Saunders had made out with a boy. That was all anyone would be saying, I was sure of it. And then my parents would hear, and they’d never look at me the same way again. I’d be forced to go back to St. Francis; I could kiss all my friends goodbye.

Except _him_. There would be no more kissing him.

Mr. Mazzuchelli was walking forward to give us notes, but there was an odd ringing in my ears, and I didn’t hear a thing he was saying. I stood up hastily and hurried off the stage.

“I liked the passion, but the timing was - Simon, where are you going?”

“I have to go,” I replied, grabbing my backpack and not looking anyone in the eye.

“Simon!” I heard him call, but I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t look at any of them. Mr. Mazzu, Lilette, Annabelle, _him_ \- I couldn’t do it.

My feet couldn’t carry me fast enough out of that school. I burst out the front door and felt the sting of the cold wind on my face. I could feel tears forming in my eyes, which just made me even more upset. What kind of stupid little boy was crying because he couldn’t handle a simple rehearsal?

I got to my car and threw the door open, practically leaping inside. I stuck my key in the ignition, but at that moment, I couldn’t bring myself to turn it on. Instead I just hung my head on the steering wheel and let the tears fall. Never in my life had I felt like such a disappointment. I had let everyone down, my parents, my little sister, God Himself; what was I supposed to do?

It wasn’t that I had kissed him. I knew I was going to kiss him going into this. I knew that I was going to have to kiss him, and I agreed to doing the show anyways. Kissing him wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that I had liked it.

I hadn’t wanted it to end.

I wasn’t sure how long I spent in that car, crying and praying and trying to think about anything else. I couldn’t go back inside and face everybody, especially now that I had run out like a coward. But I wasn’t ready to go home and look my parents in the eye either.

After what felt like an eternity of wallowing in my self-pity, I heard someone tapping on the window. I looked up, fully expecting (and kind of hoping) it to be Lilette, there to offer words of comfort.  
It wasn’t. It was him.

I hastily wiped the tears off my face and looked back down towards my steering wheel.

“Hey,” I heard his muffled voice shout. “Open up!”

I had dug this hole; I might as well deal with it. I hit unlock but didn’t look up at him.

He climbed inside and shut the door behind him. For a moment, neither of us said anything. I was afraid of what would happen if I even so much as looked at him. And then he broke the silence.

“You were really good,” he said.

I couldn’t help it. I snorted under my breath, feeling distraught to the point of hysterics.

“Not at - _that_ ,” he said hastily, realizing what he had said. “I just meant...you’re a really good actor, Simon. Working with you is really fun.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled. “Did you want to ask me something? Because if not, I’d really appreciate it if you would get out of my car.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

I took a deep breath and forced myself to do it. I looked up at him. His sandy bangs were hanging over his dark eyes, which were fixed intently on me. He looked so genuinely concerned and it made me want to puke. “You’re not my boyfriend,” I told him angrily. “We’re not - we’re not _anything_. You don’t need to come in here and make me feel better.”

I could tell that hurt him. But what was he expecting; that we’d kissed once and now we were going to be madly in love? “But I want to,” he said. His voice was quiet and timid, and I could tell he was afraid of saying the wrong thing.

“Too bad,” I snapped. I broke our gaze and went back to looking at the steering wheel.

“What are you so afraid of?” he asked. His voice was no longer gentle; now he sounded irritated.

I didn’t reply. If I said the words out loud, then there would be no more hiding. Once I said it out loud, I couldn’t go back.

He put a cautious hand on my shoulder. “Simon, please.”

“I’m not gay,” I said quietly.

His thumb started slowly stroking my shoulder blade. Every part of my head was screaming at me to pull away from his touch, but something was keeping me from doing it. “I know you felt what I felt,” he said. His voice had been reduced to a whisper. “If that’s not true, then fine, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Good.” My voice was shaky.

“Look at me, Simon,” he said. I did. “Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t feel what I felt.”

I swallowed but didn’t say anything. _Tell him!_ a voice inside my head screamed. _Tell him you didn’t feel anything! Tell him you want him to back off!_ And then, as if I had completely lost control of everything, I heard myself whisper, “I can’t.”

A hint of a smile appeared on his face. “Exactly.”

My heart was pounding again, only this time, it was so much worse. This time there was no script and no audience. This time there was no reason to kiss him. No one was watching; no one was making us do anything. If we kissed now, he would surely get the wrong idea. Because I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t be in a relationship with a boy; I couldn’t have a single person think I might be gay. I couldn’t cause my good Catholic family that kind of drama -

And then, as soon as his lips touched mine, I closed my eyes and all of my thoughts melted away. For a second I didn’t move; I just let him do all the work. Then his hands found my face, and my hands found his neck, and I could no longer stop myself from kissing him back. It felt like a thousand fireworks were going off in the pit of my stomach. The world slowly disappeared.  
I felt him pulling away and opened my eyes to look directly into his. His pupils were heavily dilated, and his forehead was pressed against mine.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

Instead of answering, I grabbed either side of his face and kissed him. Hard. A quiet moan escaped my lips before I could stop myself, and I felt him laugh against my mouth. I pulled away just long enough to mutter, “Shut up,” then pulled him back in again.

After that, I lost track of time. It’s entirely possible that we only stayed like that for just a couple more minutes. If I was being totally honest, it felt like hours. I never wanted to stop. Somewhere, deep in the back of my mind, there was a little voice telling me that that thought should be terrifying, but the sound of my heart going into overdrive drowned it out.

When we broke apart, I sat back in my seat and turned to face forward, running a hand through my hair nervously.

“You’re really something, Saunders,” he said.

I suddenly felt like being sick. Reality hit me hard. “You can’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

“Simon - ”

“Not _anyone_.”

He frowned. “How are you going to explain what happened to Mr. Mazzu? He was pretty mad.”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I’ll say I had a really bad headache.”

He raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Yeah, that’ll explain why you looked like someone had just murdered your mother.”

“What am I supposed to say?” I cried, throwing my hands up in the air. “‘Sorry, Mr. Mazzu, but I kissed a boy and it was pretty much the best thing that ever happened to me except if anyone finds out I might be gay I’ll get burned at the stake’?”

He didn’t say anything. I clamped a hand over my mouth, realizing what I had just said. “I didn’t mean - I just - ” I stammered.

“Shh,” he said, placing a finger over my lips. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anybody.”

He leaned in and gave me a soft kiss.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up on you.”

I watched him open the car door and climb out, my mouth hanging open ever so slightly (which surely just made me look stupid).

“Oh, and by the way,” he added, leaning down to look through the window, “it was pretty much the best thing that ever happened to me, too.”

With that, he gave me a goofy grin and walked away, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

Boy, was I in trouble.


End file.
